


Sanders Sides One-shots Book 1

by StarryEyedCreator



Series: Sanders Sides One-shots [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Wings, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Best Friends, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Lamp - Freeform, Logince - Freeform, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Multi, No Romance, Platonic Romance, Polysanders - Freeform, Prinxiety - Freeform, Romance, Romantic Fluff, analogical - Freeform, calm, logicality - Freeform, moxiety - Freeform, royality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-24 14:29:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17706011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarryEyedCreator/pseuds/StarryEyedCreator
Summary: Collect of Sanders Sides One-shots.Most ships included.Includes AU's.





	1. 1. Logicality (Date Night)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, people who are reading this. This was one of my earliest writing attempts, and I've been told I've improved through the book. Just know that the awkward writing improves.
> 
> This is a romantic pairing. Enjoy!

_He should have been here 50 minutes ago._

Patton checked his watch for what must have been the millionth time that night.  _17:50_. Tonight was supposed to be the perfect casual date with his boyfriend, Damien. They had planned this date two weeks ago.

 _They_  being Patton trying to reconnect with his lover. The two had grown apart dramatically the last few weeks, but Patton wasn't going to give up the relationship so easily. Relationships were hard work, but if both parties were willing to put in some effort, the rewards were worth it. Too bad their romance was one-sided.

_Where is he?_

Patton picked up his phone again and sent out another text.

**Damien, where are you? I'm not mad, but you were supposed to meet me at the restaurant. Date night, remember? Please call me!**

The previous 8 messages were received, but still unanswered.

He picked up his glass of water and took a big gulp, his adam's apple bobbing. After setting it back down on the place-mat, he tapped nervously on his knee with his finger.

The tension in the air was so strong, it could have been cut with one of the chef's knives. It felt as if the whole room knew of his situation- that he had been stood up by none other than his boyfriend. They kept stealing glances at him, before leaning over and whispering in their partner's ear. The elderly couple across him were regularly giving him sympathetic looks, as if they wished they could change the situation, mend his hurting heart.

The waitress- Helena, he discovered, quickly sweeping over the name-tag pinned to her chest- came over again. Her strides were fast, her movements short and irritable. She kept tapping her ballpoint pen against the little notebook in her hand and swiping at the strands of her short, brown hair. She was getting quite impatient.

"Are you ready to order your meal  _now_ , sir?" She asked, placing emphasis on the  _now_. Her jaw was slightly clenched, her eyes a bit squinted. She was trying, and failing, to stay polite.

"I just need a few more minutes, please," Patton answered, giving the stout woman a little smile.

Helena gave a sniff and a forced, "Sure", before stomping away.

_I can't do this anymore._

Patton gave a long sigh and picked up his cellphone again.  _18:25_ _._ Swiping at the screen, he typed:

**You know what? Forget it. I've been waiting 85 minutes for you. I tried to make the relationship work. I even planned this date. There was going to be a surprise at the end- for you! But this clearly not working. I think we need to take a break.**

His thumb wavered above the send button for about two seconds, then crashed down on the icon.

I shouldn't feel guilty. He's the one standing me up, ignoring me, pushing me away. _This is not ****my fault._

What was done, was done. Patton didn't feel like sitting around anymore. Just when he was about to call the waitress for the bill, a man rushed over to his table and plopped down on the seat across him.

He looked around Patton's age, with neatly combed brown hair and big, dark brown eyes framed by sleek black glasses. His glasses held a resemblance to his, but we're a little slimmer. He wore a tidy outfit- a black, short sleeved button up shirt and long, khaki trousers. A striped blue necktie hung around his throat. He had a dignified, business-like aura around him. His look just screamed intelligence. All and all, he was handsome.

The stranger seated across Patton exclaimed quite loudly, "I'm  _so_  sorry I'm late, sweetheart. I had to stay later than normal, and the traffic was just disastrous."

The man leaned forward and added quietly, "My name is Logan. Just follow my lead. I will explain afterwards."

Patton swallowed and plastered a smile on his face. He greeted the man- Logan- and engaged in some light-hearted, casual chatter. Helena, the now cheerful waitress, bounced up to their table. Patton was about to interject, saying he didn't want anything, when his stomach gave loud rumble.

_Gosh, that's embarrassing._

Logan's lips twitched and he said in an amused tone, " I think I have kept my partner waiting long enough." He then proceeded to order for them both, after asking Patton what he wanted. The waitress bounded away to place their order.

Logan turned his head back to Patton. "I promised you an explanation," he said, re-adjusting his glasses.

Patton nodded.

"I noticed when I walked in that you were anxious, sitting alone at a table for two. You kept looking at your phone and glancing at your watch. I am correct in assuming your date didn't show up?"

Patton lowered his gaze to his empty glass. "Yeah, my boyfriend didn't show. We've been in a rough patch lately. I guess he got bored with me. He read my texts, but didn't answer." His heart felt heavy as he looked up at the man across him.

Logan's brows were furrowed together. "I may not know you all that well, but I can already tell that you are an extraordinary person. If he can not see that, he doesn't possess a damsel of intelligence."

Patton felt warmth spread through his chest at the man's words.

"Thanks. For everything you've done. I'm Patton, by the way."

"It is my absolute pleasure, Patton. I think that even though tonight didn't start as you hoped, we can still make it memorable."

The two men continued to talk through the night. They learned more about another every minute and joked as they ate their delicious meal. Far too soon, the restaurant was closing up.

Patton took out his wallet to pay for the bill, but Logan stopped him with a look and placed his hand on Patton's.

"I'm paying."

"But that's not fair, I-"

"You provided me a delightful evening with joyfully banter- and your presence." Logan peered over his glasses.

Patton fiddled with the sleeves of the cardigan tied around his shoulders. "If you insist."

Logan pulled out a debit card and paid for the expenses. The pair exited the restaurant, side by side, and walked down the steps.

Patton looked at the second man beside him.

"Thank you again, Logan. I had a wonderful time."

Logan smiled at him. "I did as well." He suddenly looked on edge, his eyes darting to the side before coming to rest on Patton's face again. "I suppose it wouldn't be such an absurd idea to request your company again?"

"Logan, are you asking me on a date?"

"I-Yes. Yes, I am."

Patton beamed up at the other man. "I would love to. And I'm getting the bill next time."

Logan's lips turned upwards. "Deal."

The couple exchanged numbers and Patton planted a kiss on the other's cheek.

"I'll see you around." He did a little wave and walked off.

_Damien who?_

  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. 2. Prinxiety (Bloody Mornings)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prinxiety Coffee Shop AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is gonna be a romantic pairing. I might alter how they look, so don't freak out if the characters don't fit your description.

_Wonderful. Just bloody wonderful. I_ **_love_ ** _my life._

As always, Virgil was not enthusiastic to go to work today. Could one really blame him? Today was Monday, the most unlucky, the most dreadful, the most horrible day of the week. The day that could make clouds cry storms of tears over the countless buildings, the day that could make the most cheerful child wake up sullen and anxious. The day that people wished they could avoid.

And it was  _early morning._  Who wants to wake up at an ungodly hour, get out of the cosy,  _warm_  bed, just to go suffer at work? Nobody. No-one wants to work with idiotic humans, who give the most complicated damn orders and expect it to be flawless.

But, alas, Virgil didn't have much of a choice in the matter.

After punching his snooze button, he dragged his body out of comforting fortress of blankets and pillows. After staring blankly at the dark purple wall for a few minutes, he continued his morning routine. Get dressed, do hair, apply eyeliner and eyeshadow, eat breakfast, brush teeth. It was the same old routine he did every morning, every day, every week.

He grabbed his phone from where it was laying on the kitchen counter and plucked the keys from the little hanger next to the front door. He stepped outside and inhaled a big breath of the crisp, chilly air. It always managed to clear his reeling mind. He turned back around and locked the door behind him. It closed with a soft  _click_. Virgil plopped in his earbuds and listened to  _My Chemical Romance- The Sharpest Lives,_ while he ventured the short distance to the coffee shop on the corner, where he worked.

 _Sanders's_ _Coffee Shop_ had a cheerful, busy, and bright atmosphere to it, so it wasn't exactly where Virgil felt completely comfortable. And to add to that, he had to socialize with other people  _a lot_. You could say that it wasn't exactly his cup of tea, or more accurately, coffee. The only upside was that he didn't have to wear a uniform or anything.

He swung the café's door open with a loud bang. Slouching and groaning every 10 seconds, Virgil continued to get the café ready for the early morning rush. The coffee shop had its regulars who came infrequently, and the people that just liked to pop in every now and again. Virgil was just about to sit down, when the familiar chime of the bell above the door tingled, signalling that a customer had arrived.

_Aggggg, really? Whatever, as long as it isn't-_

It was.

_The universe hates me._

Stepping through the doorway, was one of the regular customers. The most regular actually.

The tall man had dark brown hair with highlights that had been dyed a plum colour. He had a rather muscular build, but still stayed lean. A few strands of his fringe fell slightly into his striking blue eyes, which twinkled on his handsome face. He had a proud nose and a razor-sharp jawline. Plump lips twitched upward. This man was clothed in fashionable casual attire- light blue jeans, a white button-up shirt, red and white sneakers and a ruby red jacket slung over his shoulders. A silver ring gleamed on his finger.

"Greetings, my chemically imbalanced romance," the man exclaimed, walking over to the counter, his head held high and looked pointedly at Virgil's  _My Chemical Romance_  band t-shirt.

Virgil continued to stare at him blankly, not saying anything. Every time this man,  _Roman,_  Virgil tries to recall, comes to the coffee shop, he has a new nickname to greet him by. Virgil has just resulted in calling him  _Princey_ since it seemed to fit his personality and name so well.

Roman Prince was a charmer, a flirt with a tad of arrogance that could be too much at times. He seemed to very confident in himself and his abilities, if his actions and words were anything to go by. Virgil could see why- he clearly possessed a talent and passion for acting and for theatre. Virgil had not seen Roman in action yet, but people seemed to be smitten with him and his performances. His name continued to pop up everywhere.

**_Roman Prince, cast as the lead role in -insert some cheesy musical-._ **

**_Interview with theatre sensation, Roman Prince!_ **

_**Roman Prince gives us an insight into the new performance!** _

_Roman Prince this, Roman Prince that. He must have some singing voice if people love him so much._

Virgil's mouth tips turned down as he stared at the being before him. Although he knew who he was and what the actor wanted to have, he still asked:

"Order? And your name too." This might have been slightly rude, but Virgil not in the mood to be polite.

Roman heaved a long, dramatic sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "I would have thought you would have learned my name by now- It's Roman." He started to explain his extravagant, complicated order to Virgil, who could hardly remember anything, but still nodded his head in a manner that resembled a bobblehead, faking that he understood perfectly.

_Seriously? Why does he have to make it so complicated? I am honestly going to murder someone today._

When the actor finally finished, Virgil turned his back to him and got to work. Roman sank down on a nearby chair and hummed a melody that was unfamiliar to Virgil, while he stared in nothingness. After a few minutes, in which Virgil tried, and failed, to recreate the other man's impossible order, he grabbed the styrofoam cups and snatched the black marker on top of the marble counter. Maybe it was a little petty, but Virgil always spelt Roman's name wrong. It was amusing to watch the flicker of annoyance that flashed on his face. He just wrote  _Ramen_  most of the time, but today he was feeling a little more........  _creative._

He hastily scribbled the letters on the side of the cup and announced to the nearly empty room that he was finished.

"Princey, your coffee's ready!"

"Great!" The fashionably dressed man jumped off his seat and strode over to Virgil. "I better get a pic of this for my wonderful followers. I mean, if you don't post it, did it even happen?"

Fighting the urge to smirk, Virgil walked around the counter and handed the cup over to his waiting hand. Roman gave him a large smile and positioned his phone at the right angle, snapping a picture. He glanced at his photograph and narrowed his eyes.

"Why in Hades name did you write  _Beef_ on my cup?" He drawled, standing up straighter.

"Oops," Virgil said, trying to look innocent. "I guess I wasn't thinking straight- ever. I'm not straight."

Virgil shrugged and pushed his hands into his black and purple hoodie's pockets, trying to stay neutral. Virgil didn't know if he was homophobic or not.

Roman's gaze softened and this mouth twitched upward. "Well, there's one thing we have in common- we're both as straight as a multicoloured rainbow."

A relief, amusement and a bit of what felt like glee spread through Virgil.

_I'm just happy that he won't judge me right? It's couldn't be something else._

Virgil looked up at the taller man and have a nod. "Guess we're both in the same boat here."

Roman gave him a lopsided grin and tried subtly to tell him that he didn't have to leave right away. "Well, I don't really have to go right now. I might as well stay and chat. Here, with you." Subtlety was not his strong point.

Virgil shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Yeah, sure. Okay."

"Excellent!" Roman leaned against the counter.

The room was filled with silence that was not at all comfortable. Roman was staring at Virgil. Virgil was staring at Roman. Neither of them knew what to say to the other. They didn't really  _know_  the other person, nor if they had similar interests. Desperate to end the deafening silence, Virgil tried making some conversation. "So, uh, I heard you like theatre."

Roman's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree and his smile was so large, that Virgil was concerned that he might pull a muscle.

"I  _ **love**_  theatre! The costumes, the props, the  _songs_  make you feel like an actual prince. How can I not admire the  _thrill_  that you get when the curtains of the stage rise. The feeling of knowing that every person in the room is looking at you, giving you all their undivided attention. Hoping that, maybe, just maybe, you might inspire someone. That you made their day brighter. That you have an impact on others...That you  _matter._ "

Roman had a blurry, far-off look in his eyes like he saw a tropical paradise in the distance, like he forgot that he was in a little coffee shop with another person. Virgil thought that he was rather cute when he got excited.

_Cute? No, I just meant that objectively.  I'm not attracted to him or anything._

Virgil tried to tell himself this, but he couldn't deny that every time Princey stepped through the door, his heart gave a flutter. Or that standing so close to him, made Virgil's cheeks redden, aware of every little aspect of himself. His blood was pumping steadily through his veins. He made the mistake of glancing down towards Roman's lips. They were quite close, too close, to his own. The two men had moved closer to each other, unaware of them even doing so.

Roman had finished his speech and his gaze had travelled to the other's lips as well. Their faces were mere inches away. Their breathing was synchronized and mingled together. Roman dipped his head down and captured the pair of pale lips with his own in a soft, gentle kiss. Virgil leaned into the touch and tangled his fingers in Roman's soft hair. He felt his knees go weak when Roman placed his hand on Virgil's jaw and traced his cheek with his thumb. Roman pulled away slightly so they could catch their breath. Virgil's cheeks were slightly tinted pink. He found this extremely adorable.

"Well, as much as I would love to stay here all day, I must be going now if I want to be in time for rehearsal." He flashed him a grin and reached over the counter next to him.

He grabbed one of the little scraps of paper and scribbled his details down. Shoving the note at Virgil, Roman pecked him on the cheek.

"Call me." He gave him a little wink before strutting out of the cafe.

Virgil couldn't help but smile a big, cheesy, grin when he thought of his annoying, charming prince.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Total of 1800 words (excluding AN's). Feel free to leave a comment.
> 
> Take it easy guys, gals and non-binary pals. Peace out!


	3. 3. Polysanders/LAMP/CALM (My Friends, My Family)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wings AU.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to my irl friend who inspired this. This is platonic.
> 
> This was my first attempt at angst, so not the best.

Virgil glared at the framed mirror that hung on his painted black wall. It wasn't that his eyeshadow was a tad smudged, or that his hair wouldn't cooperate- some things that would usually bother him.

No, his seeing gaze was pointed at the pair of midnight wings that erupted from his upper back. Virgil  _hated_ his wings . They weren't at all as breathtaking like the others' pairs.

Patton's were a soft blue at the top, getting lighter as you looked down, till they reached a light grey then white at the tips. His wings were big, and the feathers soft and fluffy. Perfect for a sweet, emotional, cheerful person with a lot love to give. People with this type of wings used them to embrace their loved ones.

Logan's wings were sleek and dark blue. The feathers were large and sharp. The bigger the feathers, the wiser the person. Suitable for a serious, intelligent person who preferred to think with their head instead of with their heart.

And last, but not least, was Roman. To say his pair of wings stood out in a crowd was an understatement. It was hard to know what exactly attracted other people's attention to his wings. It could have been the royal red colour of every first row of feathers, or maybe it was the sun glinting off the golden parts of his peacock-like wings. It could have been that the contrasting colours were gorgeous, and Roman knew this. He paraded his pair like a king with a crown on his head. His charming, slightly arrogant, personality and his wings were one and the same.

Together, they formed Thomas.

Virgil wished his were as interesting, as marvellous as theirs. But when he looked at his reflection, he didn't like what he saw.

His wings were just plain old black. Not to mention that they were "injured", damaged, meaning they were weak and the feathers were slowly falling out. A ghastly, unpleasant side affect of neglecting oneself. It made no difference whether physical, emotional or mentally. If you didn't take care of yourself, there would be consequences. Your happiness was fundamental.

Virgil knew this, but couldn't bring himself to really care. He always hid his wings in other people's presence, folding them under his oversized hoodie. He didn't want the others to be concerned.

_I'm just here. I'm not really important. Just a thorn in everyone's side. They don't care for me. I'm useless. I'm miserable. Why else would my wings look like this?_

Tearing his gaze away from the reflecting glass, he walked over to his stereo and turned the volume up. Most of the time he would listen to music with his headphones on, merely for the fact that they were comfortable and that nearby listening people couldn't judge his music taste, but today was different. The other Sides were out of their rooms, helping Thomas with whatever crisis he was having now.

Virgil should probably have joined them, but he felt that he wasn't really needed. They would get along just fine without him. That was how they acted. They have before.

Virgil gave a big stretch, expanding his wings to their full length. The tiny, black claw could be seen at the tip of his wing.He flopped down onto his bed, cringing at the pain that flared through his body from the sudden pressure on his wings. Virgil rested his head on a purple pillow, his wings outstretched, and listened to the melody playing.

_**Now, come one, come all to this tragic affair.** _

_**Wipe off that makeup, what's in is despair.** _

_**So throw on the black dress, mix in with the lot.** _

_**You might wake up and notice you're someone you're not.** _

_So, I have to put on a facade, change myself to truly fit in with the Sides?_

Virgil mused this. They surely didn't like it when he said what was on his mind. He was too negative for them. He was too like himself.

**_If you look in the mirror and don't like what you see_.**

Virgil snorted at this.

_**You can find out firsthand what it's like to be me.** _

_**So gather 'round piggies and kiss this goodbye** _

_**I'd encourage your smiles, I'll expect you won't cry.** _

_Fake a smile. Hide your pain, your tears. You have to stay_ _strong_.  _Not for your sake, but for others'._

Listening to his favourite songs, finding meaning in the lyrics always gave him a urge to sketch. Sitting upright, he grabbed the black bound notebook and a pencil from his bedside table.The pencil glided over the snowy white paper like an graceful dancer. With each leap and twirl, the swirls and light traced lines began to form a image. Virgil, huddled in a ball, surrounded by a crushing, ominous darkness. His wings were so battered that it was hard to see he had wings at all. He was alone and scared and depressed. Virgil was so absorbed in the enticing guitar solos and his drawing, that he didn't hear the knocks on his wooden door, nor the sound of it slowly opening.

Roman's head peeked out from around the door. He was about to call out to him when his eyes landed on Virgil's outstretched black, battered wings. His eyes widened. He didn't know about this- he would never have let it happen. A prince was supposed to protect his people from those who could hurt them.

But how do you save a person, when those who are hurting him...........is himself?

Roman softly shut the door. He felt waves of guilt flow through him as he walked back down the hallway, his thudding footsteps beating along with his heart.

 _Maybe if I hadn't teased him as much. If I had made an effort to make him feel accepted, get to know him better..._ _...maybe, maybe._

He sank out and appeared back in Thomas's living room. The other three turned to look at him expectantly.

"Hey, Roman, where's Virgil? I thought you went to call him?" Thomas inquired.

"Yes. That was the objective of your errand, was it not?" Logan readjusted his glasses.

"Did you know?" Roman deadpanned, not looking them in the eyes. His shoulders were slouched, his head bent.

"Kiddo, what are you talking about?" Patton peered curiously over his framed glasses. This was very uncharacteristic of him.

"Virgil, h-his wings-", Roman took a shaky breath. "I saw them. They were so damaged. The wings were drooping, the feather falling out It's so bad, and we, I, never even knew."

Patton's eyes were glassy, his arms hugging his torso like he was trying to hold all his emotions inside. His usually lively face was as white as a sheet.

Logan was frowning deeply, concern evident over his face, sadness pooling from his eyes.

Thomas was mostly just confused. He could tell this was a bad thing, but he didn't know why. "I get this is a horrible thing, but why exactly? What's wrong with Virgil?"

"When a person is not looking after themselves in a befitting manner, it causes said person's pair of wings to become mutilated, mangled." Logan explained, arms folded over his chest. The apprehensive look had still not left his features.

"This has numerous appalling consequences on said person, because our wings manifest our very existence, our own entity. Without them, we would feel insubstantial, incomplete. We would just be a shadow of our previous self. In other words, we would have constant  _melancholic_ emotions _._ "

"Wow," Thomas breathed. "Poor Virgil. No wonder I've been experiencing more angst than usual. "

"M-my poor son," Patton sniffed. "He should've told us. We would have helped him."

"Doesn't he trust us?" Thomas was upset that Virgil had been suffering alone for who knows how long.

"I wish I could say Virgil trusted us completely," Roman sighed and ran a hand through his plum hair. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but..... I may have been...... wrong. I shouldn't have acted so negatively towards him."

Logan spoke up, "We understand why, Roman. You and Virgil are relatively different individuals. It was inevitable that the two of you would contradict each other at some point in your lives."

"Yeah, kiddo. Neither one of us even realized what was happening with Virgil." Patton rubbed the lenses of his glasses clean with a sleeve of the grey cardigan tied around his shoulders. "I think we should go and comfort him."

"Do you think he'll open up to us?" Thomas asked, thinking of his anxious side.

Roman straightened his posture. "I hope so." He dusted his clothes off. "Only one way to find out."

The three sides sunk out in their normal fashion, Thomas emitting an  _oof_ from the unfamiliarity.

"Oh, I'm going with you. Yeah okay."

 

* * *

 

The foursome stood inside Virgil's room. They had meant to appear outside and knock on the door, but fate had decided differently.

"Oh, sh-"

"Roman!" Patton exclaimed.

"WHAT THE HELL?!" Virgil sprang up from the bed and dashed to the closet for his hoodie. They couldn't see his wings.

"What. Are. You. Doing. In. My. Room?!" He hissed, clutching his hoodie in his fists. He hastily folded his wings.

"Salutations, Virgil. Apologies for barging into your room at this hour, but we have pressing matters to converse." Logan calmly resolved.

Patton took a step closer. "Virge, why didn't you tell us? We would have helped you." His voice was laced with pain.

"What are you talking about?" Virgil's mouth was dry.

 _Please tell me they're talking about the fanfics_ _I read or the music I listen to, not my wings._ _Anything but my wings._

Noticing Virgil's agitated state, Roman came clean. "I'm sorry, Virgil. I told them what I saw- about your wings."

Virgil's heart was beating so hard, he thought it would escape its bony cage. That was all what ribs were- a protective cage to entrap your heart, shield it from the person that would rip it to shreds, step on it. Virgil felt that his ribcage was not doing what it was supposed to.

_No. Nononononono, please no._

"I came to your room to tell you we needed your help, but you didn't hear me knock. I decided to let myself in and I saw you sitting on your bed." Roman struggled to keep his voice even.

"I saw your wings. I know that you are literally anxiety, b-but," Roman's voice cracked. "Are you really that  _miserable?_ " Two single lines of tears ran down his cheeks.

Patton was unashamedly crying, flowing rivers of tears, his face wet and blotchy. He wasn't one to hate, but he  _loathed_ other people being in pain- the feeling multiplied when it came to his loved ones.

Logan's hands were clenched at his sides in an effort not to cry, but his eyes were blurry. He didn't know how to deal with all these emotions. Feelings were the  _ban_ e of his existence.

Virgil had his left arm curled around his stomach, his right hand covering his mouth. The black and purple hoodie laid discarded on the carpet floor. His head was pointed downwards, slightly tilted to the side. His hair fell onto his eyes from his haunched posture. It was easy to conclude from his shaking shoulders and the soft, muffled sobs erupting from his throat that he, too, was crying.

Thomas was fulled with a whirlwind of emotions. He could sense every side's feelings swirling inside him. It was enough to make him feel dizzy.

"Virgil, I-I don't know what- who... d-did," Logan tried asking. This was one time anyone knew of that he couldn't find the right words.

Thomas seized the opportunity to speak. "Virgil, we are  _so, so_ sorry. If we knew how you were feeling, we would have helped you. Virgil we  _car_ e about you."

Virgil looked up and swiped at the tears that formed in his eyes. "You-you do?"

Patton practically leaped across the room to crush Virgil in a loving embrace. " _Of course_ we care, Virgil. You're one of us. We  _love_ you."

Virgil let out a loud breath. He buried his face in Patton's shoulder, trying to regain control of his emotions.

Roman had walked over to Virgil's right side, wrapping both of them in a hug. "Not to worry, beloved emo nightmare. You will never be alone again."

Logan had followed suite and joined them. "For the record, I, too, care for you, Virgil."

Thomas had came to stand behind Virgil, also participating in the group hug. Everyone huddled around him, their wings forming a protective circle.

"You're family, Virge.  _Ohana_ _means family. Family means no-one gets left behind, of forgotten,"_ Thomas quoted.

Virgil let out a guffaw. "You did not just quote Lilo and Stitch."

Thomas smiled a crooked grin, his rainbow coloured wings flapping. Roman poked him in the side. "You know you want to quote them too. Come on, Virge."

Virgil scoffed, but did as requested. " _This is my family. I found it all on my own. It's little, and broken, but still good. Yeah, still good_."

The quintet was silent for a sum of three seconds before they burst into peals of laughter. The group wiped their damp eyes dry.

"You know, I'm in the mood for Disney movies," Patton stated aloud.

"Let me guess- Lilo and Stitch?" Roman teased.

"Why not," Virgil shrugged.

"Great! I'll get my cat onesie on and make the popcorn," Patton smiled.

Logan groaned. "Patton, the last time you made popcorn, it was a _cat_ astrophe."

He had not realized he made a pun, until the group chuckled at Patton gloating that he had made a dad joke. Logan let out a irritable sigh. The group shuffled out of his room. Virgil lingered in front of the framed mirror that hung on his painted black wall. He looked at his wings, but not with distaste.

They looked different now. They were still as black as the starry night sky, but their was something more. A faint purple glow radiated from the pointed feathers. His wings were still drooping slightly, the feathers a tad ruffled.

He may have been stressed and depressed, but he was trying his best. These kinds of things didn't just disappear. He was going to take it one day at a time. Only now, he had the support of his friends. His family.

"Virgil, you okay?" Patton called out to him.

The group stood at the door, waiting for him. Virgil smiled. A big, genuine smile. "Never better."

And together, they exited the room.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Total of 2429 words (excluding AN's). New record. I know this took a while, but I'm happy with how it came out. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed and feel free to leave a comment.
> 
> Take it easy guys, gals and non-binary pals. Peace out!


	4. 4. Moxiety (Nightmares)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil has a nightmare. Patton is there to comfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly platonic, but can be seen as romantic if you squint.

****Virgil was tossing and turning, numerous beads of sweat forming on his forehead, wetting his wrinkled purple pillow. His eyes were squeezed shut, his mouth forming an unpleasant grimace. Virgil was clenching his jaw, his rows of teeth grounding against one another. His breath was shallow and forced. An occasional, pitiful whimper would emit from his wobbling pale lips.

Virgil was having  _another_  nightmare. It was a regular occurrence, but the other sides didn't know this. Virgil was much too private, too secretive and prideful, like any other person, to tell anyone that he woke up screaming, crying every night. Virgil's chuckles were chalky white from clutching his heavy, black duvet in his fists. His sleepwear was drenched in bodily liquid, clinging to his skin like thriving moss to a damp wall. The duvet twisted around his scrawny frame, curling around his person like a serpent squeezing their squirming prey.

His dreams, or rather nightmares, were plagued by cruel, vicious demons- creatures of the empty, black abyss that made his skin crawl. These beasts, formed in the raging flames of Hell, would slither out of the murky depths to stalk his thoughts, his emotions. They were always lurking in ominous shadows, infecting his line of thought and his actions. Virgil could constantly feel their gruesome claws digging into his flesh, their foul breaths beating on the back of his neck. Their croaking, callous voices would whisper mockingly in his ear, evoking various things he wished he didn't have.

Virgil never knew how to  _really_ deal with his insecurities, his fears nor his anxiety. Heck, he  _was_ Anxiety. So he just bottled them up, sometimes writing what he was feeling down in his journal.

The black leather bound pages were a comfort- he would pour his emotions into the paper through a blue ballpoint pen. The journal was an exceptional listener, helping him deal with his never ending demons- maybe because it didn't possess the ability to talk back. Nevertheless it proved a trusted friend of sorts.   
  
A pained cry rung through the air, usually undetectable to everyone; audible enough to wake a light sleeper, if close enough. Virgil would normally put a silencing spell, using his magic, around his room every night. It allowed him to play any music he chose to assist him in falling asleep during nightfall, without bothering the others. All of them could do this, but he was the one that had reason to.

In Virgil's distressed, fatigued state it did not cross his mind to preform the essential habit. Thomas had a lot on his plate recently, which meant more stress and work for Virgil.  _Yay!_

He had come from discussing the situation with the rest of the group in Thomas's living room, slamming his bedroom door shut and locking it after he reappeared. They could not agree on what solution they should take- everyone had a different view. Frustrated, Roman had taken to playing the blame game. He accused Virgil of being the reason for  _all_  their problems. What vexed Virgil was, yes, that Princey - and the others- didn't trust him, or even really  _like_ him.

Every time he showed up there was a chorus of  _"Anxiety, what are you doing here?"_ as if they were surprised he wanted to help. Sure he had a different way of doing it, but he never wanted Thomas to be unhappy.

He thought things had changed when they had come to his room, asking him to return after he ducked out once. He hadn't planned on going back, but they had acted sincere, giving a whole speech on how valuable he was. He opened up to them, going as far as to tell them his real name. No longer was he Anxiety, the brooding outsider. Now he was Virgil, the emo best friend. Things were great, for a while; eventually, life went back to how it was before.

As if the constant reminder that he wasn't truly accepted wasn't bad enough, the words directed towards him played over and over in his mind. What was the worst was that, to an extent, the things said about him were  _true_.

Virgil  _was_  the source of Thomas's angst, his nervousness and what made him cautious. Yes, he could influence Thomas's thinking negatively, but surely he wasn't  _all_  bad.

At least  _he_ didn't think so.

A toe-curling scream sprung from Virgil's throat. As if sensing his inner pain, clouds of sinister black smoke coiled in and around the darkened room.

It's was more than enough to wake the onesie-wearing father figure in the neighbouring room. Patton snatched his glasses from where it stood on his white bedside table. Pushing it crookedly onto his face, he dashed out of his room to the source of the screams. It seemed that Patton and Virgil were the only ones who didn't put up a silencing spell. Both Roman and Logan had an enchantment to prevent sound from entering or leaving their rooms.

With a mind of its own, just like the smoke, music notes started to slowly drift through the air.

 _They send me away to find them a fortune,_  
_A chest filled with diamonds and gold._

Rushing towards the black wooden door, Patton pounded on it, not wanting to intrude on Virgil's privacy, but noting the urgency.

 _The house was awake, the shadows and monsters_ _._  
_The hallways, they echoed and groaned._

"Virgil?" Patton called out. The wind howled, shaking the branches of trees in the backyard. The ticking of a clock accompanied the soft notes of a piano.

They didn't have a piano.

 _I sat alone in bed till the morning, I'm crying, "They're coming for me_ _._ _"_  
_And_   _I_ _tried_ _to hold_ _these_ _secrets_ _inside_ _me,_  
_My_ _mind's_ _like a deadly disease._

 _"_ _NONO_ _, NO PLEASE! I- NO-_ _I'M_ _SORRY! PLEASE DON'T, NO! NO! NOT THEM- PLEASE! NO, ME!"_ Sobs were shaking Virgil's chest, vibrating through the walls.

"Virgil!" Patton tried opening the door, only managing to jingle the doorknob. "Virgil must have locked it,"he thought, frustrated. How was he going to get through to him?

 _I'm bigger than my body,_  
_I'm colder than this home,_  
_I'm meaner than my demons,_  
_I'm bigger than these bones._

Patton covered his face with his hands, debating on what to do. He could see a lone streetlight flickering through the window, before eventually fizzing out. An idea blinked into his mind.

 _And all the kids cried out, "Please stop, you're scaring me. "_  
_I can't help this awful energy._

Patton rushed back into his room, closing his eyes and focusing his powers. He could feel his blood pumping through his veins.

 _God damn right, you should be scared of me._  
_Who is in control?_

The Sides' rooms were customized to materialize whatever they desired. So why not wish for a key to unlock Virgil's door?

 _I paced around for hours on empty,_  
_I jumped at the slightest of sounds_.

With a burst of dim light, a silver key materialized in the air, falling into Patton's open palm.

 _And I couldn't stand the person inside me,_  
_I turned all the mirrors around._

Patton rushed back to the room opposite his, shivering because of the sudden drop in temperature.

 _I'm bigger than my body._  
_I'm colder than this home._

He ran his hands up and down his arms, trying to block the unusual draft from biting at his skin.

 _I'm meaner than my demons._  
_I'm bigger than these bones._

The pale moonlight reflected off the shiny, silvery key between Patton's fingers.

 _And all the kids cried out, "Please stop, you're scaring me."_  
_I can't help this awful energy_ _._

He shoved the gleaming key into the lock, fumbling slightly, before turning it anticlockwise.

 _God damn right, you should be scared of me_ _._

It opened with a quiet click.

_Who is in control?_

Patton stormed through the doorway, hurrying over to the Queen-sized bed on which Virgil laid.

_I'm well acquainted with villains that live in my head._

Virgil had rivers of tears streaming down his blotchy cheeks, his eyes closed. His chest heaved with every strained breath. Patton could make out a few phrases that Virgil was muttering under his breathy gasps.

"No, don't... they.... friends... innocent.... I'm.....hurt me .... leave.... demon... "

_They beg me to write them so they'll never die when I'm dead._

Patton placed his right hand on Virgil's left shoulder, his other wiping Virgil's cheeks.

_And I've grown familiar with villains that live in my head._

"Virgil, wake up. It's okay, you're okay," Patton soothed. Virgil's eyes flew open, his body tensed, clearly startled.

_They beg me to write them so I'll never die when I'm dead._

"Patton?" Virgil's voice was a mix of surprise, relief and embarrassment.

"Virgil, hey. I heard you having a nightmare. Are you okay?" He ran his fingers through his strands of hair.

 _I'm bigger than my body_  
_I'm colder than this home_

"No, of course not," Virgil sniffed.

 _I'm meaner than my demons_  
_I'm bigger than these bones_

Patton peered over his glasses. "Virge, does this happen often," he prompted gently.

_And all the kids cried out, "Please stop, you're scaring me."_

"Well, I- yes," Virgil admitted softly. "Every night, always the same thing."

 _I can't help this awful energy_ _._

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, rather not. I- Patton would you- do you mind if-"

_God damn right, you should be scared of me_

"Do you want me to stay with you?"

"...Please."

_Who is in control?_

Virgil shuffled over, adjusting until both the duo were comfortable. It only took a few minutes for them to turn sleepy.

_And all the kids cried out, "Please stop, you're scaring me."_

"I'm glad my demons can't hurt you," Virgil mumbled into Patton's chest.

There was no reply.

Somehow sensing the newfound peace, the black clouds of smoke slowly retracted back into the air.

 _I can't help this awful energy_ _._  
_God damn right, you should be scared of me_ _._

Virgil listening to Patton's heartbeat, Patton resting his head above Virgil's soft mop of hair, their arms curled around each other, they fell asleep.

_Who is in control?_

The clock struck one, the whistling of the breeze rustling the leaves and soft breathing the only things breaking the unsettling silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Total of 1717 words. How 'bout a comment, mmmhh? Even a smiley will be nice :)
> 
> Till next time. Take it easy guys, gals and non-binary pals. Peace out!


	5. 5. Logince (The Virus)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preview

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this isn't the typical oneshot, but a little preview of the full length fic I plan to write.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Logan Belmont stared idly out the glass plane, his arms crossed behind his back. His gaze was thoughtful, the early morning sun dancing across his face. His neatly washed and pressed black suit provided an attractive contrast to his snowy white dress shirt. A dark blue tie adorned his throat. His dark eyes glinted with a calculating gleam, his long, sturdy fingers fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves, an unintentional habit.

Logan was reflecting on this world, the happenings of the last few decades, the situations they, all people, were forced into. It had been like this as long as he could remember. How he envied the people in the tales he was told, of before everything had happened.

 

* * *

 

Back then, people had lived in functional cities with normal everyday lives. There was structure and order. Everyone had a place. There was still conflict and crime, but human beings aren't flawless. They will never be. Those people could trust others. They could make connections with people for the purpose of friendship, for...  _love._ Not only because they had to, because they wanted to survive, live for one more day, one more week. They did it for their happiness.

Then the virus happened.

It unfolded so unexpectedly with so little idea on how to stop it. Humanity had never encountered something quite like this. Someone had dubbed it "The Virus" and the name had stuck. No one knows how it originated. If it was man-made in a lab, a disease passed on from animals or came from some mutated bacteria. It crept into everyone so carefully, it wasn't noticed until it was too late. Way too late.

Everything started slowly. Here and there people got what was assumed to be the common cold. Nothing too serious to raise suspicion. A runny nose, a little cough, tiredness. Not so bad everyone couldn't continue to do what they normally did. But more and more people were getting sick, and it wasn't just a cold anymore. It wasn't even considered  _one illness_  anymore, but several.

Every symptom you could possibly imagine was evolved into the extreme. A temperature so high, the person was roasted from the inside; coughing up about a quarter of the body's blood in one go; swelling in the throat, until the person choked to death; so fatigued, even moving the tiniest muscle seemed an insurmountable task.

The more people that got infected, the more the illnesses spread and worsened. There was hardly a person left who wasn't infected. Before anyone could bat an eye, half of the world's population was wiped out. Everyone thought it was the end. This was how humanity was brought to its knees- no big bang, no sun exploding, no raging fires, no cries of soldiers in war. Merely a sickness that got out of hand.

Then it stopped.

Those measly few who weren't infected could stop isolating themselves. The ones that managed to hold out for that long were cured overnight. No one could understand why or how, but we're eternally grateful. For a small while, everything seemed......... peaceful? The living mourned the dead, thinking of The Virus with hatred, but relieved that death didn't loom over them. They were forced to hunt for scraps of food or any other resources they needed to survive.

Earth was no longer it's beautiful thriving self- humanity wasn't the only one affected by The Virus. Thousands of once growing plants wilted, only the strongest living to taste the sunlight the next day. Without the necessary food and shelter, the number of animals decreased rapidly. At first, it was every man and woman for themselves, greedily hoarding whatever they could scrape together, but they soon realized this wasn't very effective. The people were in the motion of making plans when  _it_ happened.

A murder.

No one expected perfect harmony all the time, but the murder took them unexpectedly. Well, maybe it wasn't  _so_ unexpected.

Malcolm Burney was a selfish, scrawny asshole who didn't care for others at all. How he managed to get a gun in his filthy hands, no one knew. All they found was Terence Bohannon, the slightly arrogant, but not all bad, bulky soldier with two bullets in his brain. It was easy to deduce that Malcolm was the murderer. Even before he stated it to everyone.

Malcolm came running around like a madman the next morning, his brown hair flopping into his bloodshot eyes, waving his gun above his head. He kept yelling that he was a superhuman with extraordinary strength. People thought Malcolm snapped, lost all his marbles, until he loudly proclaimed that he had killed Terence Bohannon. When he did, he was enveloped in a big flash of blue light and he absorbed and multiplied Terence's strength tenfold. To prove it, Malcolm lifted up a nearby undriven van, the white paint faded, the structure creaking, and threw it a good 100 metres. The crowd was astonished, but mostly afraid, not liking the state of his mind.

Malcolm turned around slowly, his big eyes full of his hunger for power and the craziness that consumed him. Malcolm's body shook as he lifted his arms from his side, the gun pointed to the chest of Annabeth Cooper, once a prized athlete, who stood a distance away.

Ironic that a famous runner couldn't move fast enough.

The bullet hit her right in the chest and a bright light blue flash blinded them momentarily. With speed they didn't know he possessed, Malcolm sprinted away, knowing the crowd wouldn't be happy that he killed their friend. Unfortunately for him, hoards surrounded him, blocking every exit. A few brave souls, maybe Annabeth's family, tackled Malcolm from behind. He was killed by the same gun that he used to commit murder.

Desperate to protect themselves and their loved ones, groups of people came together into what was later known as gangs. Each gang had their own area where they lived. Every area, or "territory", had their own system with different rules. You could say that every gang was a "city". The gangs had to grow their own crops and get their own resources. Who knew toilet paper was so important?

The biggest and best gangs had the best territory, with big, fertile grounds and the smoothly functioning facilities (the people had to sleep and practice hygiene somewhere). Of course, you couldn't just waltz in and become part of the gang. You had to complete the initiation ceremony. Each had their own tests and standards. When-  _If_ you joined a gang, you worked for them and lived under their protection.

Those who didn't want to, or failed to join a gang were called  _The Renegades,_ outcasts who lived on the outskirts of their territories, barely surviving on their own. Since they were so few, they were weak, vulnerable to the lower level gangs that weren't exactly pure of heart.

It was time for a change.

 

* * *

 

Logan's fingers fiddled with the edge of his right sleeve's cuff, his eyes gazing out the window, over the land he had made his gang's territory.

Determined men and women working the field in the summer day's heat, growing their crops and caring for their livestock. People in white gloves, treating sickly patients with what little remedies they collected and could make. Brave soldiers patrolling the borders, ensuring the safety of their people, preventing Renegades and others from entering the territory. Peacemaking guards solving everyday conflicts and protecting their storages. Professional organizers keeping their system working, collecting items and distributing them fairly. Cleaners scrubbing and dusting the buildings, making them sanitary.

Logan had built this system, this empire from scratch, with the help of his second in command, Virgil Foster. Virgil was always by his side and although his comments were often sarcastic or negative, he did provide a unique and helpful insight.

Logan's gang wasn't the only big organisation in the nearby area. The other major gang was led by a man called Roman Prince, a bit of a royal, but loyal, prat, and his optimistic second in command, Patton Starling. The two groups were rivals, constantly competing to come out on top.

Unfortunately for Roman, he didn't possess the logical and strategic mind of Logan, causing his gang to have many flaws. Personnel often abandoned their posts, rules were not obeyed and resources were often stolen. Roman Prince had a way of inspiring people, making him a great leader. He was the shepherd of mindless sheep, guiding them to do what they needed to do. Patton Starling, his second in command, was a cheerful and loving person. He could connect with others easily, form strong relationships quickly. He was emotional and empathetic. People could trust him fully.

Together, they attracted people like moths to a flame. But eventually, their kindness was taken advantage of. They could not do much to control their people.

Logan Belmont, on the other hand, was a calculating person, tending to listen to his mind rather than his heart. He could map out perfect plans in his sleep. This cold, logical behaviour often caused him to be insensitive and not aware, or fully understanding, of other people's emotions. Virgil Foster, his second in command, was a quiet and reserved person, preferring to be alone with his thoughts rather than a large, noisy crowd. He often noticed the little things others wouldn't, no matter how obvious. A subconscious habit, the flash of emotion in someone's eyes, a minuscule detail. He wasn't too good with people, always anxious and overthinking. This could lead to him avoiding his problems, instead of facing them.

Together, they could map out flawless plans, come up with the most amazing ideas, spot numerous weaknesses and fix them. But people had a hard time feeling comfortable around them, intimidated by the duo's negative outlook on those who couldn't pass certain standards. Although, Virgil could understand anxiety better than anyone. Eventually, people realized that they would be the most effective and safe gang.

They badly wanted to join, but first they had to pass the initiation ceremony.

 

* * *

 

Logan turned his gaze towards one of the stone sundials he had ordered to be placed across the territory. They had no electricity, nor extra batteries, so using the sun to tell the time was necessary. He adjusted his sleek, black glasses on top of his nose, walking out of the neat room he had dubbed his "office". His black shoes clicked against the steps as he strode over to the door where Virgil was waiting. Virgil was clad in his usual all-black outfit, the only exception being a silver chain with a moon charm attached. He fiddled with it as he leant against the faded white wall with one shoulder.

There was to be an initiation ceremony today, which both of them would be attending since they were the leaders. Accompanying them would be ten chosen, armed guards, the head organiser, who trained and taught the new members everything they needed to know, and, of course, the people who wished to join.  The rules of Logan's gang were that anyone was allowed to the initiation ceremony  _once,_ but afterwards, you were forbidden to try again. That ensured that only the best were accepted. If the persons couldn't succeed in completing their task, they were forced to either join another gang or become a Renegade.

Virgil stood upright as Logan came to stand before him, letting the silver necklace fall back to its in place on his chest.

"Greetings, Virgil. It is an adequate morning today, " Logan greeted with a nod.

"Hey, Logan," Virgil nodded back.

"Have you received the reports on the quantity of those who wish to become a member of our organisation?"

"Yeah, " Virgil answered. "Ready to meet them?"

"I am."

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Total words: 1962
> 
> Until next time, take it easy guys, gals and non-binary pals! Peace out!


	6. 6. Analogical (Starry Night Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan and Virgil spend their night under the stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was complaining to my mom, saying that I had writer's block. She replied, "Don't worry, an idea will come to you, " then this popped into my head XD.
> 
> I do occasionally like too change the characters' appearances. It's a romantic pairing. 
> 
> Enjoy!

_Virgil is awake again._

Logan heard the soft padding of bare feet against wood floors. Slapping against tiles. Clink of a glass. Rushing of water. A sigh.

Silence.

It was not unusual for Virgil to be up when others will still sleeping. He often suffered from nightmares or he'd surf the internet until he realized how late it was. As for Logan, his mind was much too busy to allow him to rest. He had so many responsibilities, plans, thoughts that his overworked brain kept him up until he passed out from exhaustion.

Both of them haven't been able to get some shut eye for the last three nights. Logan decided that instead of the two of them staying apart in their separate rooms, not able to sleep, they could actually do something with their time. Logan glided out of bed and walked out of his room, making enough noise for Virgil to hear, but not to bother the others. He quietly opened the closet under the stairs where bits and bobs were stored, grabbing the black telescope in the corner.

Logan has always been fascinated by outer space.

The faraway stars like blinking diamonds against the inky sky. Planets, big and small, out of rock or gasses, engulfed in the dark, endless abyss of space. The thrilling excitement and fear of gazing at the unknown. Logan could spend hours marvelling at the moon through the telescope black as the night itself, gazing upon its chalky surfaces, studying the craters visible to his miniature instrument.

He shuffled over to the door that led to the back garden, the legs of the telescopes poking at his side. Choosing a patch of the driest damp grass he could find, Logan set up his telescope and plopped down on the cold ground. He waited a few seconds and heard the sound of the backdoor opening.

Soft thumping of feet. Silence. A question.

"What's got you awake?"

Logan twisted around and was awarded the sight of Vigil in red and navy plaid pyjama bottoms, a black nightshirt, barefoot.

"Too much to ponder," Logan murmured, gesturing to the right of him. Virgil obliged, plunking down on the grass cross-legged.

"May I inquire as to why you're up?" Logan readjusted his glasses atop his nose.

"Couldn't sleep," Virgil mumbled, propping his elbows on his knees and resting his chin on his right hand. His nibbled his left thumb, staring into the starry night sky.

"I can see that," Logan observed, raising an eyebrow.

The moonlight glinted in Virgil's eyes, a fleck of light against the dark orbs. "Nightmares," Virgil admitted, plucking stands of grass from the ground before him.

Silence.

A slight breeze ruffled the trees' leaves, covering the two males with a few goosebumps. Logan glanced at the person beside him and scooted to the side.

"Why don't you study the cosmos for a while," Logan offered.

Virgil looked up. "No, no, that's okay. I'm good."

"I insist."

Virgil huffed and slid to the left, peering through the telescope up at the heavens. They sat there on the cold ground, the damp grass clinging to their legs, taking turns observing the moon.

Silence.

They studied the cosmos and they studied each other.

Virgil would peek at Logan from under his fringe.  
Logan would pretend he didn't notice.   
Virgil would use the telescope next.   
Logan would glimpse at Virgil.   
Virgil would pretend he didn't notice.

Eventually, they tired and decided to head back to their respective beds.

"G'night, Logan," Virgil yawned and stood up, shaking the grass from his clothes.

"Goodnight, Virgil." Logan's eyes drooped as he watched Virgil lumber back into the house.

He glanced once more at the single grey cloud that formed in the sky. Logan stifled a yawn and pulled himself up from the ground. Dragging the telescope with him, Logan stumbled back into the warm house to his welcoming bed. He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Silence.

 

* * *

                       

The nightly activities of the two sides had become a regular occurrence. Most nights when sleep evaded their outstretched grasps, they could venture into the garden knowing that the other would be there with the telescope ready to use. Logan had had the logical sense to bring a blanket after a few times they gathered at their spot in the garden.

He was the first to arrive one night, four days after their first stargazing experience. He had taken a dark blue blanket and spread it out on the grass, the telescope already set up. Logan had sat patiently on the uncomfortable ground, hoping that Virgil was awake too.

The soft click of the backdoor. Thumping of footsteps. Logan smiled. Virgil walked over and sat down on the blanket next to Logan.

Silence.

Neither of them spoke. They didn't have to. Sitting under the stars with each others presence was all they needed.

 

* * *

                      

One night two plush, black pillows from Virgil's room joined them at their stargazing spot. Virgil was curled up on a red blanket, watching Logan as he peered through the telescope. Virgil felt closer to the logical side than he had before. Their nightly stargazing had created a connection between the two that neither of them had with any other side.

Silence. 

This was how most of the nights were spent- in silence, observing the moon. Virgil cuddled further into his pillow. A light wind blew over them. 

All was quiet. All was calm.       

                       

* * *

 

 

Virgil and Logan were sprawled out on a fuzzy blanket that was an appalling shade of yellow (it was the only one Logan could find), gazing upon the clear starry sky, each resting their head on a plush pillow. They were laying side by side, their bodies almost touching. Only the soft sounds of breathing and the distant noise of cars broke the silence. Virgil turned his left to look at Logan who was staring unwaveringly at the cosmos above, silver wisps of moonlight glinting off his glasses.  
His hands were folded neatly on his stomach.

Virgil felt his hand twitch, fighting the urge to brush away the strand of hair that fell into Logan's eyes. Logan slowly turned his head to stare at Virgil. Both of them were trapped in the cosmos of each other's eyes, dark globes with flecks of moonlight, shining stars burning in the night sky.

A shooting star dancing above caught their attention.

"Make a wish," Virgil whispered.

"Why? Stars have no magical properties that allow them-"

"Just do it."

Logan turned his head to look up at the heavens and closed his eyes. No words were said. His eyes opened and he turned back to look at Virgil.

"Did you make a wish?" Virgil asked. Logan only smiled.

Silence.

 

* * *

  

Click of the backdoor. Thumping of feet. Virgil smiled. He had arrived first tonight.

Logan joined Virgil laying on the purple blanket, spreading the second he brought to cover them. Saying nothing. Under the cosy green material, Virgil could feel Logan's hand right next to his. His breath hitched in his throat. Logan carefully slid his hand an inch to the right. Then a little more. A bit more. Virgil turned his palm up and intertwined his fingers with the warm hand on top of his.

It was quiet.

No distant noise of traffic. Even the universe was holding its breath.

"Logan," Virgil murmured.

"Yes?" Logan's heart was beating hard against his ribs.

"What did you wish for when you saw the shooting star a few nights ago?"

Logan turned his head to look at Virgil. "For more nights like this one," he whispered.

Virgil scooted closer, resting his head on Logan's shoulder. "Will you stay with me?"

"Always. Together for as long as the stars and night sky is above us."

One cold and one warm hand laced together. Two hearts beating as one. A smile and a grin.

Silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Total words: 1318
> 
> I hope I managed to convey the feeling I was going for.
> 
> Drop a comment and until next time, take it easy guy, gals and nonbinary pals!  
> Peace out!


	7. 7. Royality (Fairytale Fusion)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman and Patton visit Roman's kingdom and discover something entirely new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Patton x Roman. They haven't had that much scenes together, but this couple is actually very cute. 
> 
> It's platonic with implied romance.
> 
> Do remember that I have my own definitions of mages, warlocks, witches ect.
> 
> Those who aren't familiar with Steven Universe, fusion is when two or more characters combine or 'fuse' together and form a whole other being, with mixed attributes of each person.

 

Patton hummed along with the soothing notes of music that drifted around in the air. He was sprawled out on the soft, cream coloured carpet with a slight yellow tint, paging through a photo album of Thomas. His corner of Thomas's mind, or his room, was pleasantly warm, feeling as if rays of sunlight were caressing his skin. Patton looked up. The soft knock on his door was followed by a well-dressed Roman, a sword strapped to his side.

He smiled cheekily at the lazing figure. "Greetings, my dearest Patton."

"Hey, Roman!" He beamed up at the prince. "What brings you here?"

Roman rubbed the back of his neck. "My creative ideas have been absent lately. Not that I couldn't have come up with them, but dear Thomas, sweet, hardworking Thomas, has been  _so_  tired lately."

Roman waved his hand through the air. "I was hoping you would assist me."

Patton stood up. "Of course, Ro! I'd love to. What did you have in mind?"

"I thought we could venture through my room for some brainstorming," Roman proposed.

"Sounds like a plan!" Patton took his outstretched arm and they sunk out to Roman's room.

They landed on the lush fields with a plop, the breeze ruffling their hair and the grass of the hilltop on which they were standing. Patton marvelled at the glittering lake, a figure of an enormous creature lurking at the bottom. The sun was peeping from behind the peaks of the mountains in the distance, reflecting off Patton's glasses. A group of little mages were playing tag to their right, making spurts of water or tiny gusts of wind to stop each other from tagging them. A teenage mage was sitting cross-legged a distance away, curling her hands around a ball of flame that she held in her lap. Patton turned around, greeted by a forest of evergreen plants. An old couple, a witch and wizard, were strolling through the woods and collecting herbs for their potions.

"This way, my dear Patton! Let's go meet up with my subjects at my castle."

Patton turned to face Roman and they walked towards the towering stone castle. Hoards of people were crowded around rickety stalls and dancing to music in the town square. As they neared the crowds, a little boy with a tooth gap and painted face ran up to them.

"Look, Prince Roman! I'm gon'a train and be 's strong and brave 's you!" The boy exclaimed, waving his plastic sword.

Roman crouched down. "Train hard, my dear boy. You'll make a fine knight one day."

Roman ruffled his hair the boy scampered off with a grin. Patton smiled as the walked over to the wooden stalls.

A hooded man was paying for the ingredients he bought from the witch's stall. He pocketed a handful of pink crystals and held up a bottle with sparkling purple powder. Uncorking the bottle, he poured a handful of the purple powder into his palm and put the bottle in his pocket. As the man turned to walk away, Patton saw a glimpse of the swirling black tattoos that covered his neck and parts of his face. Patton swore he had seen orange eyes before a cloud of purple dust engulfed them. Roman and Patton coughed as they tried to wave the cloud of powder away. Roman planted his hands on his hips.

"Hades, that warlock was rude. He could have gone without choking us with his fairy dust," Roman said, dusting his clothes off.

"Is it dangerous?" Patton asked worriedly.

"Nah, Warlocks are protectors. They mean no harm."

"Warlocks? Are they like the children we saw earlier?"

Roman shook his head. "No, there are different types of magic users. The children were mages- benders of the elements. They're very connected with life and nature. Mages usually hang around their own tribes, but are contacted if someone is seriously ill, being healers and all. "

Roman inspected a few of the potions and Patton followed. "Then you have your witches and wizards. They're more into the knowledge and learning of magic. Potion making, ancient runes, astronomy, a few light spells and such. Most are considered the wise village consultant, but some prefer to be left alone. Then you have your warlocks and sorcerers. Unlike the previous types, it's not a power they naturally inherit. Warlocks take an oath and complete a ritual to gain their magic. When it's completed, they get tattoos with the traditional warlock symbols. Warlocks are invested in the spell side of magic, although they make potions that are a little darker than witches' and wizards'. Warlocks are our magical protectors and help out the Royal Guard if there's a threatening danger. "

Patton nodded as Roman spoke and continued to investigate more stalls.

"What kind of ritual do they have to complete?" Patton asked.

Roman laughed. "I don't know, Patt, I'm not a warlock. I guess some kind of blood bond."

"And the sorcerers?"

"Hmm? Oh right, sorcerers are magic users that received their magic from dark forces, like demons and alike. Whereas warlocks use their ancient magic for the benefit of the people, sorcerers' motives are purely selfish. They dive very far into the dark arts. "

They stopped at a colourful stall swarmed with children. A blonde girl with a braid beamed as her sword was handed to her. When she saw Roman, she gave a bow and sprinted away. A little dark-haired boy was putting bracelets on and has a crimson cape slung around his shoulders.

Roman smirked and snatched a headband with cat ears, plopping them onto Patton's head. The prince thought it made his companion even cuter than normal. Patton giggled and grabbed a plastic crown and plunked it onto Roman's curls. It looked like a golden halo on his head and he carried it with the pride of royalty. Roman laughed and took a tiny brown sack out of his pocket. He opened it up and went to hand a few gold coins to the stall owner.

"Oh, no, no, Prince Roman, I couldn't. Please, it's on the house," the owner said, shaking their head.

"Now, what kind of Prince would that make me, just taking from my wonderful subjects," Roman replied, holding up a hand.

Roman dropped the coins on the stall counter and grinned at the owner. They smiled back, gratefully taking the money. The Prince and his companion strolled through a few more stalls and came to a stop at the town square. The stone surface had a magnificent mural in the centre, an invincible castle with the sun setting behind it. A few people, mostly children, were dancing to the music that a live band was playing.

The gap-toothed boy with the plastic sword had grabbed the boy with the bracelets and crimson cape by the hand, pulling him into a dance. The blonde girl with the braid put her sword down, asking a shy, redheaded girl with a painted butterfly on her face if she wanted to join her on the dance floor. The shy girl nodded, smiling, and took her hand. The old witch and wizard they saw collecting herbs earlier were slowly swaying to the beat in the far corner.

Roman took Patton's hand, bowing as he asked, "May I have this dance, good sir?"

Patton inclined his head, laughing. "I'd be honoured, my Prince."

The moved to the centre of the gathering crowd, standing right on top of the impressive mural beneath them. Roman took Patton's hand in his, wrapping one arm around his waist. Patton rested his arm around Roman's neck. The two of them started to copy the dancing crowd, waltzing to the growing beat. Everyone swayed together like they shared a single mind, a synchronized body.

Roman twirled his partner outward, connected only by their extended arms, and spun Patton back into his chest. The prince hugged Patton from behind as they continued dancing, smiling into his hair. The masses around them were all circling the duo at a fast pace, moving like the rings around a planet. Patton swirled back around until he faced Roman and held both his hands, spinning them in a circle.

Patton's cat-ears came off in the process, yet Roman's crown miraculously stayed on his head. As the music came to an end, Roman pulled his companion to his chest, dipping him gracefully. Their foreheads touched as they stared into each other eyes, breathing heavily. Patton laughed gleefully and Roman followed suit. An observer might have noticed a hooded figure with orange eyes and tattoos smile at the scene, before blinding white light swallowed the town square.

When the light faded, the villagers stood still and gawked at the person in the centre of the crowd. He was on his knees, looking disoriented. The person in question was enormously tall, almost twice the length of an average man. He had a golden crown decorated with rubies perched on his curly brown hair, a pair of sharp, elegant black-rimmed glasses framing his equally brown eyes. A few freckles littered his nose and cheeks. He was clad in a white dress shirt with grey epaulettes, grey ripped jeans and high, red boots. A scarlet sash hung around his frame, a silver sword strapped to his side and a ruby cape slung over his shoulders.

The fusion shakily stood up, not quite knowing what happened. One minute he,  _they_  were dancing....there was light. Now he was here.

"Why am I, you--why are we on the ground?" The fusion muttered to himself.

He noticed all the townspeople ogling him. As if to set them at ease, he grinned and gave them a bow. The crowd cheered, thinking their prince and his companion had planned this. They carried on dancing as the fusion stumbled off into a darkened corner. The lanterns illumination the square weren't close enough to provide sufficient lighting. He slouched against the cold cobblestone wall, not noticing the hooded figure until he spoke.

"It looks like it worked successfully, so what is it that plagues you, fusion?" The voice was higher than he anticipated.

The fusion straightened and looked at the warlock. "What do you mean 'it worked'? I didn't plan this."

Orange eyes stared at him from under the hood. It clicked into place. "You're the warlock that threw me,  _us_ with purple dust!"

The warlock lifted up his hood, showing a sharp, feminine face, revealing that he was actually a she. "That I did. Do not worry, it is not harmful. You still have the ability to unfuse if you wish."

"But,  _why_?" The fusion went to run a hand through his hair, forgetting about his sharp crown, and pricked a finger on one point.

The warlock walked over and waved her hand over his pricked finger, healing the minimal injury. "It's a warlock's pledge not to reveal sacred information until it is critically needed. Do not fret, please, there is no danger afoot today."

The fusion sighed. "It just feels weird, you know.  _I'm a fusion._ It feels like I jumped straight out of Steven Universe."

The warlock smiled, a dreadlock falling into her orange eyes. She grabbed both of his hands and cupped them in both of hers. "You are not one person and you are not two people. You are _an_   _experience._ Make sure you're a good experience," she quoted.

The fusion chuckled and squeezed her hands. "I will."

The female warlock gave one last reassuring glance and shrugged up her hood, melting into the darkness, leaving the fusion alone.

 

* * *

 

Thomas and the two sides stared at the person standing in front of them. The fusion had told them the basics about the warlock, her purple dust and how they fused.

"So, it's like Steven Universe?" Thomas asked.

"Pretty much," the fusion rubbed the back of his neck.

"Cool," Virgil mumbled.

"Considering we cannot call you Roman or Patton at the present, what will be your chosen name?" Logan readjusted his glasses.

"Uh, I didn't really think about that. Maybe something like Ratton, Romton, Romatton?"

The other pulled a face.

"Romaon, Ropatton? Paman, Poman, Pattoman?" The fusion kept trying.

The others shook their heads.

"Pattman?"

"That sounds like Pacman," Logan remarked.

"Pararoman?"

"That sounds like ParaNorman," Thomas noted.

"RoPa?"

"That just sounds stupid," Virgil muttered. "Like you're saying rope in a weird accent."

When the people in a fusion strongly disagree, the fusion can collapse, causing them to unfuse. The prince and father-figure fusion barely managed to stay together. Roman was annoyed at everyone for disregarding his ideas, while Patton understood that they were trying to help. Thomas and the remaining sides flinched as the fusion glitched.

"Sorry, guys. Those just don't sound right." Thomas clicked his fingers. "What about Pattroman?"

"Pa-tro-min?" Virgil asked.

"It kinda sounds like that spell,  _Expecto_   _Patronum,_ from Harry Potter," Thomas said.

"Well, I am quite magical," the fusion joked.

"It's settled then, Pattroman." Logan tapped his bottom lip.   
"Then there's the case of them fusing, influencing Thomas's behaviour. Creativity and morality make wonder, although that's not necessarily a bad thing. I conclude that as long as they unfuse now and again to deal with serious matters, all will be well."

"Great," Pattroman grinned. "If you'll excuse me, my castle awaits."

The fusion bowed, his crown somehow not sliding off, and sunk out.

"They'll be even more insufferable now," Virgil mumbled and disappeared to his room.

Logan stared at the space Virgil previously occupied, wondering if it was possible for the other sides to fuse without being sprinkled with the magical warlock powder.

* * *

 

 

Pattroman stared dramatically into the distance as the wind swept his hair like he was in a movie. Patton and Roman have been fused for quite a while now. They didn't need to unfuse often and had become much better at understanding one another, strengthening their relationship.

Most of the time, Pattroman liked to spend time with the villagers, but he could recently feel a threat looming above them. He had no idea what was in store for him, but he would be ready. Pattroman mounted his horse and unsheathed his sword. Whipping the horse's reins, it galloped into the sunset.

He was a true prince, a knight on a white stallion, but without the shining armour.

They weren't in stock yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Total of 2385 words.
> 
> So this oneshot sparked my imagination and I plan to write a whole, long Fairytale Fusion fic, but it's a fantasy AU with fusion, dragons, warlocks, mermaids, sorcerers, mages and everything in between.
> 
> Drop a comment and tell me what you thought.
> 
> Until next time, take it easy guys, gals and nonbinary pals! Peace out!


	8. 8. Sides & Co (Dear Virgil, We Love You)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil stumbles upon old letters his friends wrote him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought it would be perfect for a fluffy oneshot, so here we are. The characters are the Sides, Thomas, Remy (Sleep), Dr Picani and Bad!Deceit (Damian).
> 
> Deceit will use one or two offensive terms, so be warned.
> 
> I don't go to therapy, so I hope my research is mostly accurate.
> 
> This is platonic.

 

Virgil slammed his bedroom door closed behind him. Dropping his school bag on the ground, he tugged off his comfortable hoodie, throwing it over his desk chair, and sunk into his bed. Burrowing his face in a plush, black pillow, Virgil did the breathing technique his therapist taught him.

 _Breathe in for four seconds._  
_Hold your breath for seven seconds._  
_Breathe out for eight seconds_

It couldn't go on like this.

 _Breathe in for four._  
_Hold for seven._  
_Breathe out for eight._

Why was it always him? What had he done to deserve this? He did another cycle to avoid thinking about the answer.

 _In for four._  
_Hold for seven._  
_Out for eight._

Things would be better if he just-

 _Four._  
_Seven._  
 _Eight._

Ran away.

Virgil slowly sat up and rubbed his face. He shuffled over to his desk chair, threw his black and purple hoodie over the bedpost, and wheeled it over to his closet. The wheels of the chair glided over the tiles of the bedroom, requiring a bit more effort to move over his black rug. Moving it to the edge of his rug, right against the closet, he climbed onto the chair and opened the cupboard doors at the top. Virgil looked past the cardboard box on his left and saw what he was searching for in the far right.

He stretched forward to grab the striped purple suitcase, realizing too late that the chair could move sideways. It veered to the left and he gripped the cardboard box to steady himself, but only managed to take it down with him. He crashed onto the ground, hitting his right shoulder against the purple painted wall. The surprisingly heavy cardboard box plummeted onto his leg, spilling pages everywhere.

Virgil groaned and rubbed his shoulder, pulling himself into a ball. His right elbow would have a big bruise tomorrow from where he tried to break his fall. He sat up and flipped the cardboard box back over, chucking its contents that littered the floor back in. Old rapport cards, unfinished sketches, embarrassing middle school photos, random scribbles. Virgil picked up one of the pages. It was a letter addressed to him.

 _Oh yeah._  That summer Virgil's phone broke and he didn't have the money to repair it. His friends still wanted to keep in touch, so they wrote him letters.

Virgil tried to flatten the creases and looked down at the extravagant, curly writing.

~~~  
_My darling emo,_

Virgil rolled his eyes. That was so like Roman. He and his family went on a luxurious vacation in Miami that summer.

_My flight was dreadfully boring. I'm afraid that the aeroplane has terribly unflattering lighting for selfies. How would people know I'm going on vacation if I don't post about it? Not to mention that aeroplane food is not close to fitting for a prince._

Virgil scoffed. With Princey's wealthy family they could easily afford first class. The Prince's were a picture-perfect family- a famous model mother, a world known actor father, and a theatre star son with the voice of an angel.

_The hotel we checked into was marvellous. I had a king size bed to myself and the breakfast buffet was to die for. I soaked up a ton of sunshine at the beach and built a magnificent sandcastle with Dad._

Virgil looked at the attached photo Princey sent with the letter. Roman (shirtless) posed dramatically behind a well-built castle, his father crouching beside it.

Some things never changed.

_They had a live band playing at the beach one day. I think even you would have liked their music. They asked a person from the audience to come and sing with them and obviously, I got chosen. I was like a siren upon that stage, seducing the crowd with my voice. The vid will be on my insta._

_I hope you like the souvenir I got you._ _Stay safe and healthy, my chemically imbalanced romance._

 _Till we meet again_  
_Roman_  
~~~

Virgil smiled. He remembered when Princey came back from his vacation and gifted his friends a souvenir along with a seashell. He loved the phone cover of Jack Skellington from The Nightmare Before Christmas he received.

Patton had gotten a stuffed kitten teddy with a flower crown on its head. His shell had a slight pink tint to it.

Logan had received a colourful necktie with fishes on it. He had pretended to hate it, but they all knew he wore it when he was at home. His shell had a slight blue hue.

When Virgil had put his porcelain shell to his ear to listen to the ocean, Logan had informed them that they were actually listening to the blood rushing through their ears. It kind of killed the magic.

Virgil snatched another letter from the ground.

This one was from Logan.

~~~  
_Virgil,_

Straight to the point then.

_Since your cellular device has been temporarily non-functional, I have decided to converse with you through written format._

_I visited the_ Butterfly _Rain Forest at the Florida Museum of Natural History_ two **** _days prior._ _It was fascinating and Mother really enjoyed it._

_My mother and I paid a visit to an observatory today. Even though I was knowledgeable to most facts about the planets, I never knew about the folklore behind the numerous constellations. It was an out-of-this-world experience._

Virgil felt his lips twitch when he imagined the face his friend would have made when he realized he made a pun. Knowing Pocket Protector, he probably went to buy a book on constellations for research purposes.

_I'll be with my father for the weekend, I hope that we can find topics in common to converse about..._

Logan's parents were divorced and he didn't get to see his dad often. They didn't have a very close relationship.

_I hope your therapy sessions have been beneficial to your mental state. Make sure to get enough sleep, eat healthily and stay hydrated._

_Logan_.   
~~~

Virgil scrambled to find another letter. He chucked a few more meaningless papers into the cardboard box- his old passwords, doodles on scraps, school newsletters.

One particular piece of wrinkled parchment caught his eyes. He set that one to the side where the other's letters were. Only two more papers remained in the original heap.

Virgil scooted closer and studied the first one.

It was from Patton.

~~~  
_Hey Kiddo,_

Virgil rolled his eyes. Patton was truly the mom-friend of the group.

_We got a puppy! Can you believe it?! She's a cute little Labrador with these tiny ears and tiny, wagging tail! We named her Trixie, because she's a real trickster. We're gonna have our hands full with this one._

Of course Patton's letter would be about a puppy.

_It's great being here on the family farm. Joan, Talyn, and I swam in the lake yesterday._

Talyn was Patton's sibling and Joan was Talyn's significant other.

_It was freezing! Poor Trixie wouldn't come near the water and I had to beg Talyn to join me and Joan. They eventually gave in._

_We're going to ride on the quads tomorrow. Hopefully, no-one gets hurt this time._

Virgil cringed as he remembered the "Wheelie Incident" as they dubbed it.

_Stay safe, Virge! I can't wait to see you guys again._

_Lots of love_  
_Patton <3 _  
_~~~_

Virgil chuckled at the added heart. He put the letter with the others and read the last one.

~~~  
_Dear fag,_

Virgil clenched his jaw. He could see that smirking snake looming over him, clad in his usual ironic, yellow shirt.

_I hope your vacation is great, considering you're a miserable miscreant who only has friends out of pity._

Virgil knew he should ignore him, but  _he_  always knew how to hit home. Virgil was insecure about his friendship with Roman, Logan and Patton. They were just so great, and he... wasn't.

_Do us all a favour and just disappear, would you? I mean, what are you even here for? Your own parents abandoned you!_

So what if he's adopted? Thomas and his husband were kind people.

_It's not like you can compete with your brother anyway. You're just an unimportant ant in the shadow of his greatness._

Remy was Thomas's nephew, but after his parents died, the Sanders adopted him. Remy was an exceptional dancer, he had a whole trophy case to prove it, and he was very popular. Virgil paled in comparison.

_Save everyone the trouble and skip off to La La Land with another pansy._

Was being gay such a big deal?

_If you do have the gall to come crawling back... Let's say I can't wait for making new memories..._

Virgil swallowed. He definitely kept the promise.

 _Your forever enemy_  
~~~

He ripped the paper, squashed it into a ball and threw it into the little dustbin next to his desk. How did  _he_  even find his address? Damian always could find out anything if he wished, except maybe his own happiness.

Everyone knew of the rumours about Damian's abusive household. He wasn't always this bad, he could actually be quite funny, in a sardonic kind of way.

Virgil just made the mistake of crushing on him, once upon a time. Turns out Damian was extremely homophobic, or just needed a reason to let out his pent up anger. He immediately rebuked Virgil and turned very bullying towards him. Damien wasn't  _too_  violent towards Virgil, he wouldn't risk leaving evidence.

Virgil heard the thump of footsteps coming down the hall. He hastily stuck the three letters and wrinkled paper in his desk's drawer and went to hide the cardboard box, when his older brother strolled onto his room.

Remy rested his sunglasses on top of his brown locks, slowly sipping his Starbucks coffee. Virgil was awkwardly bent down to grip the box and tried to stand straight with dignity. He half-glared at his big brother.

"Don't you knock?"

"Hey, Lil' bro," he grinned. "I'm your sibling. Those rules never apply to me."

Virgil sighed.

"Whatcha got there?"

"It's just a box with old report cards and stuff. "

"Ooooohhhh, anything embarrassing?" Remy winked.

Virgil scoffed, picked the box up and realized that he couldn't reach the top cupboards without standing on a chair.

Remy looked at the tipped chair, open cupboards and Virgil's messy appearance.

He laughed, "You fell off the chair, didn't you?"

Virgil turned red, but said nothing. Remy, who was much taller, set down his coffee on the desk and took the box from Virgil, returning it to its prior place in the cupboard. He closed the cupboard doors and ruffled the younger boy's hair.

"It isn't that hard to ask for help, Virge," he teased.

"Well, whatever. Thanks, Rem," he mumbled.

"You're welcome, bro. Dad'll be here in about two hours. Think you'll be fine till then?" Remy asked, popping the collar of his leather jacket he wore over his plain, white shirt.

"Where are you going?" Virgil asked, wheeling his chair back to his desk.

"Gonna go to a quick study group with my peeps," Remy replied, sticking his one hand into his black jeans' pocket," I'm failing History."

He took his coffee and strutted out of the room.

"It's Wednesday afternoon," Virgil called, "and at least close the door!"

"I told you, those rules never apply to siblings!" Remy called from down the hall. "Bye, b*tch!"

Virgil grumbled, closed his bedroom door and glanced guiltily at where his suitcase was in his closet. Was he really going to run away, leave his family and friends behind? What would they think of him? How would he even survive? Where would he live? For how long? Whose money would he use?

Virgil sighed. His flight reflex had kicked in and he didn't think it through at all. Virgil slid into his desk chair and pulled out his homework. He has a therapy session tomorrow and had to get as much done as possible. As an afterthought, he took the letters and wrinkled parchment from the desk drawer and stuffed them in his bag. Dr Picani might want to see them.

 

* * *

 

Virgil stalked down the corridor. He was going to be late for Geography. Again.

A shoulder collided with his, causing him to drop his bag. He sneered at the laughing Damian over his shoulder. Virgil slung his bag over his shoulder and rushed to class.

 

* * *

 

Virgil's other few classes went by without a hitch, excluding him being called on and accidentally calling the teacher "mom". Ironic since he had two fathers.

The others hadn't arrived yet, so Virgil had bought his lunch and sat alone at their usual cafeteria table. He lifted the forkful of mash to his mouth and felt someone bump his arm, causing him to spill his food into his lap.

He growled, "Seriously," not looking back, because he'd know that damned laugh anywhere.

Virgil cleaned up with his napkin and saw his friends come through the cafeteria doors.

 

* * *

 

Virgil rested his head on his hand, trying to focus on his math equation. It was the last period, he could almost go to therapy then home.

_13\. 2p(y - p) + 15y(3p + 4y)_

_14\. If X=5, A=12 and C=42, how much is_ **_[5(2x +5a) - 13x(5c + a)]_ **

Virgil exhaled. His brain was exhausted by the end of the day and he couldn't keep his mind on his work.

The ringing bell signalled the end of his torture. He quickly stuffed his books in his bag and drifted out of the classroom. A voice called out to him as he was rushing down the hall.

"Virge, wait up!"

Virgil looked back at Patton jogging up to him, not yet in his cheerleading uniform.

"Hey, Pat. Don't you have cheer practice today? Where are the others?"

"I can spare a few seconds for my friend," Patton smiled. "Roman is at drama practice and Logan went to chemistry club."

Patton dug around in his bag and pulled out an envelope. "We know you've been having a hard time lately, so we made you this."

He handed Virgil the envelope, zipped his bag closed and flashed a grin. "Gotta go, see you tomorrow!" Patton hurried back from where he came.

Virgil put the envelope in his bag where he kept the letters and wrinkled parchment. He dashed to his dad's car and climbed in front.

"Hey, Dad," Virgil greeted, kissing him on the cheek.

"Hey, Kiddo," Thomas smiled at him. "Ready for therapy?"

"Yup," Virgil buckled his seat belt. "How was work?"

They shared some small talk until they reached the therapists' offices.

"Okay, I'll come to pick you up when you're done," Thomas gave him a squashed hug.

"Bye, Dad."

Virgil jumped out of the car, heaved his bag over his shoulder and trudged to Dr Picani's office. The door was open and the therapist was sitting behind his desk, studying a patient's file.

"Hey, Dr Picani," Virgil greeted, plopping down on the couch, his schoolbag at his feet.

"Hi, Virgil! Good to see you," the therapist beamed.

He set down the file he had been reading. "This is your second therapy session, right?"

"Yeah."

"I thought that you should tell me about your week before we start your CBT," Dr Picani said.

Cognitive Behavioural Therapy was a common treatment to help with types of anxiety and fears. Dr Picani would also help Virgil with his negative thinking.

"Well, there's this one kid, Damien, that keeps screwing with me." Virgil fiddled with a thread hanging on his ripped black jeans.

"I see. What does he do?"

"Nothing too serious. He rams into me in the halls, whispers names as he goes by. Little things that inconvenience me. "

The therapist scribbled down in a notebook. "Have you told anyone about this?"

"No, there's no need to make them worry about stupid things like this," Virgil huffed, stuffing his hands in his hoodie's pockets. "My friends know that we don't get along and that Damien bothers me sometimes."

"And do they stand up for you when this Damien bullies you?"

"They're never there. I'm in a different class than them, so we don't see each other much in between school."

Dr Picani nodded and scribbled more down. "Does this affect you quite a bit?"

Virgil hid behind his fringe. "I miss not seeing them as much as before. I kinda felt excluded from the friend group for a long time. Roman, Patton and Logan were friends long before I came along. They're all so talented and such wonderful people."

"Would it be accurate to compare you to Amethyst from Steven Universe in this situation _?"_ Dr Picani asked. "In the episode,  _On The Run,_ she and Steven ran off to the Kindergarten and we learned how Amethyst feels like she can't compare to the other Crystal Gems. That she's not worthy. "

"Sometimes... I know my family and friends love me, but I wasn't in my right mind this week. I was even ready to run away from home after a particularly bad day," Virgil said, digging the letters, envelope and wrinkled paper out of his bag.

He handed the older man the three letters. "I accidentally came across these letters that made me think. One summer my phone broke and my friends wrote me letters to stay in touch. It made me feel nostalgic."

Dr Picani scanned the letters. "These made you feel a little more valued, knowing they took time to write to you, that they cared. Like Rin Matsuoka from  _Free!_  felt when he swam the relay with his old team after years of not seeing each other."

Virgil nodded and picked up the wrinkled paper. "I planned to write them a thank-you letter for always caring for me, but I ducked out at the last second."

Dr Picani encouraged him to read it. Virgil cleared his throat and started.

 _"_ _Dear friends,_

_Thank you for accepting me._

_Roman, always ready to defend my honour and protect me from harm._  
_Patton, always saying the right thing and giving the comfort I need._  
_Logan, helping me stay focused on what's important and setting my mind at ease._

_You're the people I love the most, my best friends._

_Forever grateful,_  
_Virgil. "_

Dr Picani smiled, "You're like the new marauders."

Virgil chuckled and turned the envelope Patton gave him in his hands.

"Is that another letter?"

"I'm not sure, I haven't opened it yet."

Virgil carefully slid the flap open and took the paper out. It was a letter addressed to him. His three friends must have switched between writing, because the script changed from extravagant and curly to neat and orderly to slightly messy scribbles. Virgil read it out loud.

" _Dear Virgil,_

_We love you._

_You're our best friend and when you stand behind us, we will protect you. When you stand before us, we will have your back and when you stand next to us, we will respect you._ _We love your quirks and your remarks and your laugh and the ways you dress and your solidness and your jokes and everything else._ _We can't imagine a world where you weren't our best friend. We know you've been having a tough time lately and we hope you will trust us to help you in any way we can._

 _Your best friends,_  
_Roman, Logan and Patton. "_

Virgil wiped a teardrop from his eye and carefully slid the letter back into the envelope, hugging it to his chest.

He accepted the tissue his therapist offered him."And just like Pearl, you will learn to value and love who you are."

Dr Picani beamed at him. "Now that we've gotten that off your chest, let's move on."

 

* * *

 

Virgil scooted into the car and almost jumped into his father's lap when moving to hug him.

"I love you, Dad."

"Miss me that much," Thomas chuckled and kissed the top of his son's head. "I love you too, Virge."

"Dad, when we get home, I've got some things to tell you," Virgil mentioned, clicking in his seat belt.

"Of course, Kiddo."

 

* * *

 

Virgil ran over to where his friends were crowded together and somehow squashed them all into a hug.

"Hey, Virge," Patton laughed.

"I know it's been a whole day since you last saw me, but I didn't know you would miss my charm this much," Roman teased.

"Shut up, Princey," Virgil mumbled into Logan's shoulder.

"Um, Virgil," Logan said, "Not that I particularly mind the affection, but why?"

"No reason." Virgil uncurled himself from his friends. "I just love you guys."

The trio would continue to tease the fourth member, but it was fine.

Virgil was loved and all was well.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Total length: 3 437 words 
> 
> I hoped you enjoyed all the fluff XD
> 
> Drop a comment and until next time, take it easy guys, gals and nonbinary pals! Peace out!

**Author's Note:**

> Total of 1166 words (excluding author's notes). I hope you liked it. 
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment and vote. Till next time. <3


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